


Short Stories

by Artemis Meridia (Plushtrap)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Cults, Dark, Death, Fluff, Gods, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Rape, Multi, Romance, Short Stories, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plushtrap/pseuds/Artemis%20Meridia
Summary: Original short stories. Most will be small encounters between characters in the book I've been working on. I hope you enjoy!





	1. Shadows of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> These first three stories were written well before the idea for my book was formed. They may not be the best, but for the times that I wrote them, they were.

Lying in my bed, I am unable to sleep. There is a flicker of movement across the walls of my room that is keeping me awake, and I know that he's come back to get me, even as I see the familiar shadow illuminated against my closet door.

Taking a deep breath, I can feel him closing in on me, then backing away, taunting me; daring me to make my move. But I know. I know that whatever move I make, he will find a way to get me again. As there is no escape from the Devil without divine intervention, there is no escape from him without death. Even if I were to call the police and they took me away to a high security asylum, he would hunt me down and the cycle would start again.

I close my eyes to the room, feeling sick. If tonight wasn't the end, it would be soon. Releasing the breath I was holding, I opened my eyes, startled by the blood red eyes and twisted smile only inches from my face. A dark laugh escaped him as he backed away once more, joining the shadows of the night to torment me again.


	2. Mourning Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short is based off of a song that I love deeply. All credit for the song and lyrics used goes to Leaves' Eyes.

Returning to the tree where it all started, she sat at it's base, memories drifting in and out of her mind. Silent tears rolled down her flushed cheeks in mourning of the one that left. She knew it was time to move on, but she had loved him so. Looking to the sky, she began to sing, softly.

"So far away, but still so close. So many days I've had to count. The meaning of life comes true when I'm with you, for in me there's a flower growing."

Her voice began to raise as an icy breeze seemed to pass through her, sending shivers through her small frame. None would know that, at a glance. Her voice did not falter.

"Tell him through the winds I am here. Whisper through the breeze not to fear. Taste it by the rain what I feel when you hold me. Reach out for the winds that we share, then you will feel I am near. Taste it by the snow, I am here where you left me."

Turning her eyes away from the sky, she stood and faced the great tree.

"I told to the mourning tree."


	3. The Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A writer with a case of writer's block

I sit at my desk with a blank page in front of me and a pen in my hand. I find myself at a point that can only be described as irritating. My mind is racing four miles a minute through a tornado of thoughts that wouldn’t settle long enough for me to grasp onto anything. I didn’t know how to slow or stop them. I want to write, but I cannot.

My hand wants to put the pen to the page before me, but I have no words to write. I want to create a character, but I have no plot for them; no stepping stones for them to travel on. I want to share a magical, wondrous world that’s teeming with adventure, but nothing comes.

I can envision everything and nothing; can see a plot and cannot complete it. I have so many ideas, and yet none at all. It’s quite the vexatious dilemma to be in.

For hours, I’ve fought to clear my head and think, but alas, my meditations didn’t work. So one last time, I will try again and…finally! My mind clears like the rays of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud. A thought plants itself in my garden of ideas and immediately begins to grow and flourish. A lucid vision of every scene plays within my mind. At last, I can ink the page before me with a tale of adventure.


	4. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaranth visits an old ally for help.

"You must embrace who you are; who you're meant to be."

That was what Begonia had told Amaranth when she'd sought council with the Oracle. That had been three weeks ago, and she still didn't really understand it any better than she understood her purpose on the Children of Sovereignty's doorstep, staring at the ambiguous mirrored building that sat like a quiet beacon for the lost and searching in the heart of downtown Brightstead. It had been years since she'd first met and worked with the group and their courageous leader. They had just been building their reputation and funds to get off the ground back then. In what had seemed an impossible amount of time, they had become one of the international staples in the war against crime and terrorism.

"You've been standing here, staring for the last fifteen minutes. Do you have business with my sister, or did you just stop by to admire the building?"

Amaranth spun to see the owner of the toneless voice and saw a slim, tall man with eyes as pale as glaciers and hair so light it could be mistaken for white. His expression was as neutral as it was when Aidan had first introduced them all those years ago. 

"Ethan!" It was the only response she had at that moment, having not really expected to see him before seeing his twin sister.

A small smile found its way onto his face as he walked over to her. "Hey, Amaranth. It's been a while."

"Yeah…" There were a lot of things she wanted to tell him--to apologize for--but words failed to find her mind or reach her tongue.

"So? What brings you here?" he prodded carefully. "Anything that you need help with?"

"I…need to meet with Iris," Amaranth admitted quietly. "It's important."

"Sure. Come on in," he offered, hand settling gently on her arm to guide her toward the door. "You definitely won't find her by standing out here. She's been spending a lot more time here than she used to."

"Why?" wondered Amaranth. 

"She's been worried about the laws that the Saint's New Order has been trying to implement," explained Ethan. "Or, rather, the lack of laws."

Another problem to add to Amaranth's growing list of things to deal with. Another problem that she had accidently shoved off onto someone that she didn't want to drag in. Yet, here she was--about to ask this woman to get herself, and her people, more involved. She prayed to Lura that Iris wouldn't be angry with her for this as Ethan pulled the door open and held it for her.

"Thank you," she murmured as she passed him and entered. She stopped, looking around at everything around her.

Nothing was at all the same as it had been, the last time she'd been here. The Children of Sovereignty had only a few members working in this facility, back then, and their desks had previously occupied a small section of this open foyer. Now, however, there was a lovely fountain surrounded by beautiful flowers and potted shrubs at the center of the foyer that had benches built into its base walls that were adorned with simplistic navy cushions. A large reception desk sat between the door and the fountain, manned by a teen that couldn't be any older than 16 and a security guard. A second security guard was wandering about, watching the door and eyeing her curiously, currently passing one of the two windowed elevators that sat opposite each other on the sides of the foyer. Beyond the fountain, an office space walled off by glass next to an open cafeteria space. The hall to the right of the cafeteria was marked 'Medical Bay' and the hall to the left of the office space was marked 'Artifacts.' There were double doors beyond the office and cafeteria that was unmarked. 

"It's pretty remarkable, isn't it?" Ethan pulled her from her thoughts. "The last time you were here, this was just a dusty, barebones office and medical space."

"Yeah. I'm really glad that things worked out for them so they could achieve this," Amaranth agreed with a small smile. 

A peculiar smile curled the corners of Ethan's mouth up and he turned toward the elevator on the right. "Come on. I'm willing to bet Iris will be in her office, plotting."

Amaranth followed him to the elevator that they boarded. He hit the button for the top floor--the fifth floor. She watched the floors go by through the window as they ascended, admiring the decoration and well-calculated layout of each floor until the window cut off at the fifth floor and the door opened to a hallway done in darker colors and dimly lit. The walls were a deep purple and the floor was black carpet. Ethan led Amaranth out of the elevator.

"We'll need to keep our voices down," informed Ethan quietly while they walked down the hallway. "She may be having an impromptu meeting with someone."

Nodding, Amaranth agreed softly. They rounded the corner in the center of the hall and were met by wooden double doors that Ethan approached and wrapped on with a knuckle. Immediately after, he opened one of the doors and gestured for her to go inside, slipping in after her. Sure enough, Iris Bordia stood at the opposite end of the room with her back to the door and eyes like moonlight trained up on a wall of screens that would've been absolutely imperceptible to the naked eye, had they been turned off. Currently, each screen portrayed a different live-feed portrait of different people.

"…this is an absolutely unacceptable development," a dark skinned woman was saying, looking angry. "We should be hitting the Saints of Savannah where it hurts."

"I fully agree," a man with black hair and brown eyes added, "but the question then becomes, what is it exactly that makes them hurt? Where is the right place to strike?"

Iris's arms were crossed while she quietly listened to their words. Amaranth could see the severity of the situation in all of their expressions and her gut sank. Why had she waited so long? Why did she let things get so bad?

Because you've been in mourning, her brain reminded her again, following Ethan when he gently urged her forward.

"You've all brought up excellent points," Iris finally spoke up. "And a lot of valid questions. I agree that we need to take action, but as of this moment in time, we don't have enough information to do so. Let's spend this month digging as much up as we can. We can meet again on the first with what we've got and figure out the next step then. In the meantime, please be safe. It's starting to get bad here, which means that if it hasn't already gotten so for you, it will start to soon enough."

There was a chorus of affirmatives and the feeds cut out one by one as each person left. Iris turned to them after the last one went black, running a hand through her own pale hair as she sighed and sent them a tired smile. 

"Big brother and Champion," she greeted while she walked over to her desk to flip a switch that shut the screens off before approaching them. "What's up?"

"I was just bringing Amaranth to you," Ethan answered. "But, while I'm here, I have something to discuss with you. Later, when you have a little bit of time."

"Understood. I'll come find you as soon as I'm free," promised Iris. 

Ethan gave a satisfied nod and hugged her quickly. "Alright, I'll be going, now. I'll talk to you later. It was nice to see you again, Amaranth."

"You too, Ethan."

He took his leave quickly as Iris turned her attention to the witch. Amaranth looked at her, looking her over quickly, deciding that she had never seen the blonde looking so exhausted.

Iris's hair was down and little messy. Her silvery-blue eyes had the tell-tale dark circles of insomnia around them. Her already pale skin was paler than should have been possible for a living, breathing person and there was a faint hint nutritional neglect that suggested limited and irregular eating patterns. She could credit Iris with keeping her clothes fresh and her hygiene good, at least.

"It's good to see you, Amaranth," Iris confided with sincerity on her expression. "I was worried that you didn't survive."

"I survived. A lot of other people didn't. But I did," assured Amaranth, feeling all of her guilt again.

"I heard about how many people died." Iris bit her lip. "We did our best to give everyone proper funerals and everything…I personally oversaw Aidan's for you. I wanted to make sure that he was honored."

"I know. I appreciate that," Amaranth murmured. "The speeches that you and Ethan gave were beautiful."

"We did our best." Iris gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. "Come have a seat and we can talk."

Amaranth settled in one of the chairs while Iris moved around the desk and took her place in her desk chair.

"What can I do for you?" wondered Iris.

"I…" Amaranth didn't know what to tell her. She didn't completely know why she was here. She just knew that Iris was the person to come to for help, but what was she even trying to do in the first place? "I'm not…really sure what I'm doing here."

A look of inquiry and confusion crossed the blonde's face. "Explain?"

"I went to the Oracle and the only person that I could think of to come to for help is you, but I don't even know what I'm trying to do. I want to right my mistakes, but I don't even know where to begin."

"Ok…let's start small. What did the Oracle tell you?" 

"You must embrace who you are; who you're meant to be." Amaranth shook her head a little. "I don't understand."

Iris was silent and she looked thoughtful. After a couple of minutes, she spoke up.

"Taking that in a literal sense, that's an easy thing to do in concept. Actively embracing something like can prove to be a little more difficult," she began carefully. "My advice is meditation. Not only can it help you find who you're meant to be, but perhaps you'll be able to figure out what it is you want to do."

Meditation. Amaranth hadn't meditated since she'd lost the war four years prior to this moment. Things had been rough since then, partially because of the Saints of Savannah and partially because of a torture created by her own mind and feelings. Meditation had always been a go-to when she needed to think clearly, so why had she stopped? She nodded agreement to Iris's words and watched how the blonde seemed to study her.

"My next question is this: do you have someplace safe to stay?" Iris inquired. "I was worried, but I know that they're still searching for you."

"As of right now, I don't," Amaranth admitted. "I need to become more acquainted with Brightstead before I'll find a safe place to stay."

"You can stay here, if you like. I set up a full floor to be small apartments," she offered Amaranth.

"If I stay, I'll put all of you in danger."

Iris smiled and shook her head. "We're already in danger. We've been opposing the Saints and their New Order all along. It's just a matter of time that they'll come to challenge us. In the meantime, there will always be a place for you here, if you wish to take it."

"I think it would be best for me to go, for now," decided Amaranth, a small smile finding her lips as she met the blonde's eyes. "Especially if I'm going to be meditating."

"I understand. You're always welcome here, and don't hesitate to call on us if you need us."

"I'll remember that. Thank you so much, Iris."


	5. Search

"Dagon? What are you hearing that has you so interested?" Cobalt asked her partner.

"I hear crying," the incubus told her, blood red orbs surveying the surrounding area. "It sounds like a little kid."

"Let's go look and see what we can do to help."

"Yeah."

The pair began searching the crumbled and destroyed downtown area of Anterbury. It took several minutes before Cobalt's keener nose picked up the scent of a human.

"This way," she told Dagon. "I can smell someone over here."

Dagon followed the deaf woman over a pile of rubble from a collapsed building and through a darkened room inside. She paused, sniffing the air again before changing her direction from the door they were about to go through and straight to a broken window. With a wave of her hand, she created a hardened layer of ice over the glass shards left in the pane to prevent injury and climbed through. Dagon could hear the crying more clearly as they moved, but it seemed to echo off the vast expanse of brick and concrete walls in the alley. He continued following the fox demon. They took some winding turns through a network of alleyways before finally finding anything.

Sitting on the ground was a small human child with deep brown hair; a little girl, judging by the ragged, torn lilac dress that she wore. Her face was buried in her dirt-covered hands and the long curly hair was dusty from fallen debris. Cobalt called out.

"Are you ok, little one?"

The child let out a shriek, flinching backwards only to fall onto her bottom. She stared at Dagon and Cobalt in fear. Cobalt settled a hand on Dagon's chest, her silent way of telling him to let her handle this.

"It's ok. We won't hurt you. We're working with the relief squad and we'd like to help you, if you'll let us," she told the girl gently with a small disarming smile. "Is that ok?"

"M-mommy a-and d-daddy s-said I-I sh-shouldn't t-talk t-to s-strangers," she stuttered out with a sob. 

Cobalt glanced back at Dagon, who replied to her knowing smile with one of his own. Cobalt returned her attention to the child

"You're mommy and daddy are very right about that, little one," Cobalt assured her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cobalt, and this is my partner, Dagon. What's your name?"

"A-Abigail," she sniffles.

"Abigail? That's a lovely name," complimented Cobalt. "Are you hurt, Abigail?"

The little girl shook her head no. Cobalt studied her curiously, watching the tears fall from her big brown eyes.

"Why are you sitting here crying?" Cobalt inquired.

"I lost mommy and daddy! Someone bumped into me and I lost my grip on daddy's hand. I tried to find them, and now I'm lost!" A violent sob wracked her small frame and she buried her face in her hands again.

Cobalt approached slowly and crouched before the child.

"It's ok, Abigail. We'll help you find them, ok? But we have to get you out of here. These buildings are damaged, and it won't do if you get hurt because of them," Cobalt coaxed gently. "I bet your mommy and daddy would be sad, if you got hurt. So come with us and we can get you out of here, ok?"

Abigail looked hesitant, glancing past her at Dagon. A tiny whimper escaped her and she looked up at Cobalt.

"What's wrong?" Cobalt wondered softly.

"He's scary," Abigail whimpered quietly.

Cobalt looked back at Dagon and threw him an amused grin before looking to the girl again.

"Yeah, he does look rather scary, sometimes, but he's nice. I promise. He wouldn't be here, if he wasn't." Cobalt's voice dropped to a whisper. "You know what his favorite hobby is?"

"What?" Abigail whispered back.

"Playing hopscotch with the kids at the orphanage in Callistar."

"Really?" Her face lit up.

"Yup. He looks scary, but he's just a sap under that tough-guy look," Cobalt told her sending a teasing grin back at Dagon, who looked unamused at her playful jab "But he'll protect you, if we get attacked by muggers. That's a promise, ok? You'll be safe with us until we get you back to your parents."

"Ok," Abigail murmured.

Cobalt smiled and offered her hand, which Abigail took, and she helped the child back to her feet. They walked over to Dagon, who sent Abigail a friendly, disarming smile before they led her in the direction of the nearest escape.

Twenty minutes later, the trio walked into one of seven relief centers, looking around.

"Vixen of the North!"

Cobalt turned when Dagon tapped her and looked where he was nodding. There was a short, plump man jogging toward them.

"Yes?" she questioned. "What can I do for you?" 

"We need your advisement on something," he said breathlessly.

"Is it matter of life and death?" 

"No."

"Is it an emergency?"

"No."

"Will it become an emergency?"

"No."

"Then it can wait until we've returned this girl to her family," Cobalt told him firmly. "Otherwise, you can figure it out without me."

"With all due respect, milady, this is more important--"

Slap! The harsh sound of Cobalt's open palm making contact with the man's cheek resounded in the area, silencing everything. All eyes turned to the scene.

"The next time you try to tell me that anything short of an emergency, or a potential emergency, is more important than helping those in need, you can consider yourself fired," she bit out coldly.

"I'm just saying that I don't think it's a big deal if she has to wait," he snapped back.

"I don't think it's your job to be opinionated while on duty. In fact I know it's not your job. Your job is to respond to crisis, rescue the injured, and reunite as many families as possible," Cobalt replied sharply. "So I'd suggest that you start doing your job, instead of forming opinions about how things should be run."

The man opened his mouth to reply, looking angry, only to be kept silent by a new voice.

"She's right, Wilson. Stop digging your grave." A slim man with graying blonde hair walked up. "I already gave you instructions, now please return to the task I gave you."

The man clenched his jaw and walked away. Cobalt smiled at this second man. "Brendel, glad to see you working today."

"Cobalt. Dagon," he greeted. "Always a pleasure to work with you two. Now, what can I do to help?"

"We're just looking for her parents. She was separated from them during the panic and ended up in the battle zone," Cobalt told him. "If you could just point us toward anyone who claims to be missing their kids, that's all we need."

"This way."

He led them down a hall and to a room. There were dozens of people in the space. Some kids without parents. Some parents without kids. Some families that must've gotten separated from other family members.

"Do you recognize any of them, Abigail?"

"Hmm…" She looked around at each adult for several seconds. "Uh uh."

"Next stop," concluded Dagon.

Cobalt turned to Brendel with a soft smile. "Thank you so much."

"No problem. Just get that little girl to her family," he replied with a smile.

The trio were almost to the next relief center when Abigail's stomach finally started growling. Cobalt, of course, couldn't hear it, but Dagon did.

"She's hungry. Her stomach just roared."

Cobalt snorted at Dagon's choice of words before addressing the child.

"Don't worry. We'll stop here and get you something to eat, ok?"

"But what about mommy and daddy?"

"We'll find them," Dagon assured. "But you've gotta eat to keep your strength up for the walk."

"Ok."

They walked into the relief center and Cobalt turned to Dagon.

"Why don't you take Abigail to get something to eat and I'll go ask around? Two birds, one stone so that if they aren't here, we can be done faster."

"Sounds good," Dagon agreed and looked down at Abigail. "Is that ok with you?"

Abigail nodded resolutely. Cobalt smiled.

"I'll see you guys soon."

With that, they went their separate ways.

Half an hour later, Cobalt arrived at the table with Abigail and Dagon, holding a bottle filled with dark red liquid. She plopped down on the bench across from her partner and the human child with a sigh and opened the bottle, taking a long swig of it and grimacing a little. Blood, despite having needed to drink it for the last 500 years for her own survival, was still not to her taste.

"Nothing?" wondered Dagon when Cobalt looked at them.

She shook her head a little, covering her mouth as she yawned. "Not a single person here recognized her name. Maybe someone will at the next shelter."

"Well, we can head out when we're all done with our lunch break," Dagon told her. 

Cobalt nodded slightly and took another drink.

Four shelters and hours later, the trio walked into the last shelter in the city. As soon as they walked in, Abigail perked up.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

A young couple turned at Abigail's call and their faces lit up as they started toward them. Abigail raced forward as Dagon and Cobalt followed in a more calm fashion. Both smiled as the family of three hugged, tears of joy flowing from the parents' eyes. 

"Oh, Abby, I was so worried that we wouldn't see you again," her father murmured, hugging her tightly. "I was scared that you'd gotten hurt, or worse."

"Miss Cobalt and Mr. Dagon wouldn't let that happen," Abigail told him, not understanding what he meant as she pointed at the young woman and her companion.

Both parents eyes widened when they looked up to see their daughter's protectors.

"Oh my," the woman gasped.

"The Vixen of the North," breathed the man.

Cobalt only smiled at them kindly when they suddenly bowed. "There's no need for such formality. I'm just a concerned citizen."

"Thank so, so much for bringing Abigail back to us. Both of you. I don't know what we'd do if anything happened to her," the woman told them.

"It was our pleasure, honestly. We're happy to help," Cobalt assured her.

It took several minutes before the family finally left them. Dagon and Cobalt turned and left the shelter. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the somewhat cloudy sky a soft orange and pink and leaving the clouds shining a pretty gold color. The pair paused for a moment, looking up at it. Dagon stretched.

"Man, it's late," he lamented.

Silence met him, as expected, but it was full of thought and silent contemplation. He looked down at Cobalt and took her hand, pulling her attention to him.

"Bronze for your thoughts?" He questioned.

Cobalt paused a moment, biting her her lip. "My mind is complicated, Dagon."

"What do you mean?" He wanted to know.

"I'm running around, doing jobs for the big boss-man King himself and risking my life to protect as many people and places as possible. I have the energy, and the patience, for a lot of things, but not the time. Right?"

"That's pretty much the sum of it," he answered. "Why?"

"Because today…watching over that little girl and caring for her well being while we were searching for her family…"

"I don't understand, Vixen. What are you trying to say?" He asked slowly.

"I…Dagon, let's have a baby."

"What?" He was surprised.

"Let's have a baby," she repeated softly, confidence dropping.

"You…want to have a baby…with me?" 

Cobalt nodded silently, avoiding his eyes. He smiled and wrapped his arm around the kitsune's waist, kissing her cheek.

"Let's have a baby, then," he agreed with a smirk. "Mating season just started a few days ago, right?"

Cobalt looked up at him, surprised for a moment before smiling. "Yeah. Yeah, it has."


	6. New Friend

Aidan Kelly stood at his bedroom window and watched the pretty girl who sat in the field below with a doll on her lap while she carefully plucked flowers to continue weaving them together into a crown. She had been sitting in the field every afternoon since he'd moved into the apartment complex two weeks before and he'd been just itching to go down and meet her, or even just catch her in the hall while she was returning to her family's apartment on the floor above.

With his mind made up, he turned away from the window and ran to the living room, calling out excitedly. "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

The tall woman wasn't in the living room, but in the attached kitchen slicing carrots when he ran in. She perked up at the sound of his voice and her warm brown eyes lit up. She smiled at him. "What? What's got you so excited?"

"She's out there again! Can I go play with her?" Aidan asked, bouncing on his toes. "Please, please, please?"

She bit her lip, uncertainty filling her eyes. "You know that Daddy won't like that, Aidan."

"Please?" he begged, his blue-brown eyes going wide in a hopeful puppy sort of way. "She always looks really lonely and I want to be her friend!"

There was a beat of contemplative silence while his mother took in his pleading expression and she gave a breathy chuckle, heart warmed by his kind intentions. "Alright! Alright. Go play with her. Just make sure that you're home in time for supper."

"I will!" Aidan raced out the door and bypassed the elevator in favor of the stairs. He made it outside in record time and ran around the building to the field, where he found the girl sitting in the same spot she'd always occupied and finishing the flower crown that she'd been working on. She looked up as he approached her.

"Hi!"

"Hi," she greeted in a quiet voice and she removed the doll from her lap, setting it on the ground with great care. The she stood and walked the short distance to him.

Aidan watched her approach and giddy grin broke out on his face when she reached up and placed the flower crown on his head. She stepped back to admire it a moment before nodding in approval and smiling shyly.

"I'm Aidan," he introduced himself. "What's your name?"

"Amaranth," she murmured.

"Amernth," he tried, earning a surprised look from the girl. His face heated up in embarrassment and he tried again. "Amaran... Ama... Amara... Amy! I'm gonna call you Amy, ok?"

Amaranth giggled softly and nodded. "Ok."

"Wanna play?"

"Play what?"

Aidan thought about it for a minute and blurted out the first game that came to mind. "Let's play tag!"

"Ok." She smiled and reached out to poke his arm gently. "Tag; you're it."

"Hey!" cried Aidan as she turned and ran away, giggling. He chased after her, laughing too.

They played a hard game of tag before they plopped down on the earth beneath them, side-by-side and breathless. Aidan landed next to Amaranth's doll and scooped it up to pass it to here. The doll looked a lot like Amaranth, with its deep brown hair a little past her shoulders and the light dusting of freckles on the delicate, high cheeks. The only difference was the fact that the doll's eyes were a significantly lighter shade of green than Amaranth's.

"Here you go."

"Oh, Holly!" Amaranth took the doll gently and hugged her. She looked at Aidan for a moment and held the doll away from her so that he could see it better. "This is Holly. My grandpa made her for me."

"She looks a lot like you," Aidan commented.

Amaranth shook her head a little and set the doll on her lap again. "I keep having these dreams about a girl that looks just like her. Everyone in my dreams call her Holly, so...this Holly. In honor of the girl in my dreams."

"She seems really special to you," stated Aidan.

"She is. She's been the only friend that I've had for a long time," confirmed Amaranth. "Especially since Mommy and Daddy don't want me to get close to any of the kids at school."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. They keep telling me that friends will just get in my way. But they have lots of friends."

"That's weird," Aidan told her with a scrunch of his nose. "My mommy says that making friends is good good for us."

"Grown ups are weird," concluded Amaranth, earning an agreement from Aidan.

There was a beat of silence between them. Then Aidan sat up straighter and spoke up.

"I'll be your friend! If you want."

Amaranth looked at him. "You want to be my friend?"

Aidan nodded enthusiastically, grinning at her. Amaranth smiled bashfully and nodded.

"I want you to be my friend."

The two children looked up to the sky as they noticed that the colors of the world had shifted to a pinkish golden glow as the sun was setting. Amaranth got to her feet, hugging Holly to her chest with one arm. She reached out to help Aidan up.

"We should get inside before it gets dark. My grandma says that monsters roam at night and wait for kids to go outside after bedtime so they can take the kids away."

Aidan held onto her hand and he led her toward the building. "Come on! It's almost time for me to get back for supper, too."

Amaranth jogged after him and allowed him to lead her. After a short-lived struggle with the door--ended by Amaranth's neighbor, Mr. Hartman--they went upstairs, stopping on the second floor.

"Will you be outside tomorrow?" wondered Aidan when they stopped at the top of the stairs and released her hand.

"Probably," Amaranth answer.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." She nodded and smiled. "Bye, Aidan."

"Bye, Amaranth!" They separated at the stairs and he returned to his apartment, thinking about all the games they might play the next day and feeling excited for the new friend he'd made.


	7. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a trigger warning on this one: there is talk of rape and murder. Nothing particularly graphic, but if these topics are upsetting to you, this may not be the chapter for you. With that said; be strong, stay beautiful, and remember that you're never alone.

"What do you want for lunch, Mom?" Iris asked as she and her adoptive mother walked away from her workplace.

"You know, there's that Utrelian restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago. Why don't we go there?" Bianca Smith suggested, smiling.

"Sure. Sounds good," agreed Iris, knowing the place that she was talking about. "How have your classes been?"

"Good! I'm enjoying them," Bianca answered. "What about yours?"

"They're going alright. Law isn't my first choice, and sometimes I can swear that part of what's written was placed there to fill some kind of word count quota." Iris smiled with a mirth that she didn't show very often in spite of her usual cheerfulness. "I wouldn't take it if I didn't need it. Thankfully, I have amusing classmates to keep it interesting."

Bianca giggled. "Sounds fun."

"Only sometimes. But it's necessary for this thing that I'm trying to start."

"The thing that's currently two rooms out of a massive building that you bought?"

"It's slow to start, but I'll find a way to get it in motion."

"I know you will," assured Bianca while she reached over to tuck a strand of long, pale hair back behind Iris's ear. "You're smart and tenacious when you want to be. If you're determined to make it happen, I know that you'll succeed."

They had just arrived at the restaurant and Iris was about to speak when their phones went off to alert them of a message received. The two shared a look and giggled together at the knowledge that it was probably Iris's adoptive father--Bianca's wonderful husband of almost a year now--Clancy Smith. He had agreed to watch Zoey for the afternoon while his two favorite women went out for a day on the town. They were seated in a booth by the hostess and given menus before they bothered to check their phones.

Iris was greeted by the notification, which took her to the message: a picture of her three year old daughter sitting on the carpeted living room floor with a chocolate chip cookie in each hand and one half devoured locked in place between Zoey's jaws to poke out between her lips. She looked happy. The caption read: "Like mother; like daughter." The two women shared a laugh.

"Another cookie fiend!" Bianca grinned. "She really is your daughter."

Iris smiled knowingly as a waitress came by to get their drink orders. They gave their orders--coffee and a lemonade--and Iris drew invisible shapes on the table with her fingertip.

"I'm sure it doesn't help that I spoil her just a little bit." Iris let out a breathy laugh. "I didn't expect any kid to wrap me around their fingers, but one look at her when she was born and it was all over. I was somehow ok with the prospect of giving everything up to make sure she'll have the best life."

Bianca's smile became amused and she crossed her arms on the table in front of her. "She really got you good, but you've grown so much with her. I know it's been hard these last few years and I'm so proud of you for the progress you've made."

"I still have a lot of work to do. There are still things that I have to recover from…a lot of thoughts and feelings to put away," Iris admitted and the drinks arrived a moment later.

The waitress took their orders, then. Bianca ordered a dish that included wild rice in a tomato-based sauce with sliced onions and green peppers with chicken. It was a traditional Utrelian dish that Bianca sometimes cooked herself, for hosting or when she was feeling homesick. Iris just went with a recommended dish to go with her lemonade. Bianca looked to Iris after the waitress walked away, concern filling her warm brown eyes.

"Tell me about these thoughts and feelings. Sometimes talking about it helps," suggested Bianca.

"It's just some left over trauma from the locker room incident and then all of my friends, except Denise, just…dropping me the way they did," Iris explained, keeping her voice down so that other customers wouldn't hear her.

"What kind of thoughts do you have about what happened?"

"Dark thoughts. Really, really violent thoughts." Iris paused with a thoughtful look and then lowered her eyes in shame. "…I keep thinking about all the blood and pain. I understood that Claire hated me; it was why Ethan and I were always her primary targets. I never thought that she'd go so far as to rope all of her buddies and most of the football team into cornering and manhandling me. I relive it every night in my dreams and I just…"

Bianca was watching Iris closely when she glanced up to meet her mother's eyes.

"You just what, Iris?"

"I want to kill them, sometimes. Just openly, in cold blood in spite of the consequences. Other times, I want to make them hurt equally or greater than they made me hurt," she explained. "I know that it's not ok. I don't want Zoey learning this terrible vengeance, so I've been trying to push these things back and put them out of my mind for her. She's more important than any vendetta that I could possible hold."

"She is," confirmed Bianca with a small nod. "But you're pretty important too. She still needs you, so you need to take care of yourself."

"This is true," Iris murmured.

"It's perfectly normal, by the way. Your thoughts and feelings toward Claire and her accomplices," Bianca added gently. "You were almost killed. No amount of hatred gives anyone the right to plan a rape. Nobody deserves that."

"I know. Basic human nature and psychology." Iris let a small smile show. "It's easy to forget that I'm not immune to natural response."

Bianca let out a humorless chuckle. "It's ok. We all forget sometimes."

"I guess."

"What about your thoughts about your old friends?"

"…almost four years, and it still hurts like a fresh stab wound. I didn't really keep secrets about my interests from them, but I guess they never noticed the occult books on my shelves. They ended our friendships over a misunderstanding that involved occultism and my study of it," remarked Iris. "I understand where they could derive suspicion from that, but they could've at least heard me out and let me explain how I became aware of the stupid rituals in the first place. Or even just let me explain how to reverse it the safe way. But, no. I blame Renira."

"Why do you blame Renira?" Bianca probed.

"She kept insisting that I was part of the Saints of Savannah and just argued everything I tried to tell them. It was all just jealousy and I knew it. She hated my friendship with Alphaeus for how close we were and that was the opportunity she took to ruin it. David had been friends with her longer, so of course he was going to listen to her. Lane…Lane wasn't interested in our conflict. H didn't leave me as much as it was that we weren't really close to begin with. He was still around, but only because he was close to Ethan. Denise was the only person who stood by me."

"You never really explained how this whole thing became a problem."

"I didn't really know what to tell anyone, honestly. It honestly came as a shock when it happened. We were just looking for our missing classmate. Mindy Jones…she was the quietest girl in class and tended to keep to herself. She knew all kinds of dirty secrets about pretty much everyone at the school. The police weren't doing anything about finding her, so Alphaeus and David decided to investigate what they could, starting with her locker. Over the course of lunch, they'd managed to get almost all of us involved. Except me, because I was too busy having a mental breakdown in the restroom over the pregnancy test result coming back positive. That's how the rest of the mess was set in motion."

"What happened next?"

"I told Ethan about the test result…and Alphaeus, since he overheard us talking about it. I spent a lot of the afternoon looking for the right words to tell the others. I found out after school that Mindy's journal talked about her getting closer to one of the tenants in our apartment's basement. We all knew that he'd be at work when we got back, and that he'd go to a bar immediately after. That said, David, Alphaeus, and I went to go check his apartment. Not gonna lie, it was definitely illegal entry, but…we found Mindy. She was torn up, almost to a point of being totally unrecognizable. Renira had shown up just before we found her remains, and like a fool, she decided to go snoop around the rest of the apartment alone. She flipped a switch and a trap door opened under she. She fell."

"You guys went looking for her, right?" pressed Bianca.

"Yeah. We didn't know that there were any floors in the complex. Lane pulled the floor plans for us, but there was no indication of any other floors. I remember that the idea of an unmarked floor made me really uneasy. It felt like trouble and I didn't really want to go down when we found the stairs, but finding Renira was more important. The temple at the foot of the stairs was impressive, but none of us felt good being there, so we decided to be as quick as possible. We found two buttons in the walls to open the gate to the inner sanctum, but they were across a large room from each other and only kept the door open temporarily when pressed. Lane and I stayed behind to handle the buttons while David and Alphaeus went in to search for her. It was a boring wait, so I started looking through the books that I could find scattered around the three outer sanctum rooms and I began to understand the treachery that they had wrought on Tiverhampton. I knew that we needed to do something, so I told them about what I'd read and started listing off the different things that could be done to counter it."

"And that's when Renira accused you of being part of the cult," Bianca concluded.

Iris nodded a little. "I needed them the most that day, but I didn't even get the chance to tell them that I was pregnant. I found myself cuddling with Denise and spilling my guts like usual. I thank the gods for blessing my life with her presence every day."

"Ok, so he's another question: why don't you ever wear the kind of skirts you used to without leggings? Or go swimming anymore?"

"The answer to that is going to make you mad," Iris told her.

"It doesn't matter. Something's lowered your confidence." Bianca watched as the blonde bit her lip, looking like someone too shy to anyone to pass the salt. "You told me once that you hated wearing jeans because you find them uncomfortable. I know why you started wearing them more, but you also said that you'd go back to your skirts after you stopped feeling like those kids were a constant threat to you. Do you still feel like you're in danger?"

"No. It's not like that, Mom," she sighed. "You're right about my confidence. I just feel like everything underneath my clothes aren't very pretty anymore, and that it might be more painful to explain when people ask me about it."

"About what?"

"About the scars. They didn't just pin me down. I put up a fight in spite of their knives. I was well aware of my life hanging in the balance, but I wasn't really willing to give in without that fight. I at least wanted to be able to say that I tried when I reached the gates of hell. I threw everything into it, expecting to die that day. But I didn't die, thanks to Troy, and what was left behind…was an unbelievable mess of hideous, deforming scars across my torso and thighs. I don't want anyone seeing them, because I don't think that I could handle the criticism that I know will occasionally come my way. I can barely stand how bad it looks in the mirror."

"Iris," breathed Bianca with a momentary look of sympathy that quickly dispersed into determination. "Sweetheart, take pride in your scars. They're a testament to how you walked through hell and came back stronger; kinder. You're so beautiful, inside and out. Those scars only add to your beauty."

"Mom," Iris murmured.

"I mean it." She smiled and reached across the table to cup Iris's cheek gently. "You're beautiful. Don't forget, ok?"

"Ok." Iris cracked a small smile. "Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate this."


	8. Terror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a day later than I intended, and I will try to keep late chapters to a minimum. Please enjoy, and Happy Belated Halloween!

"Are you sure you'll be ok, going out there on your own?"

Calla would've laughed if it wasn't the sixth or seventh time that her guardian, Bethany Wright, had asked her. It was starting to get a little bit old to her.

"I'm sure that we'll be fine, Beth," she assured.

"And you truly don't mind going with Zoey while you're out?"

"Of course we don't," Garret interjected with a smile. "We're happy to spend time with her."

"Ok, as long as you're sure." Bethany smiled. "I know I'm pestering, but I just want to make sure. Peter's parents are still at large and this is the one day out of the year that disappearance rates spike. I just don't want anything happening to you guys."

Calla felt a small pang of guilt for getting annoyed at the usually charismatic redhead. She was seriously just doing her best to let them grow up while keeping she and her brother safe. She didn't deserve Calla's growing irritation, especially tonight. 

Eve of Hallowed Spirits came around on the last day in the Month of Candles, and it was the only day in the year where the spirit realm and the living realm coincided enough to allow open visitation from the dearly departed. At least that's what her parents had always told her. When she was young, she just saw it as a fun time, where she got to dress up and free stuff was handed out at celebratory festivals or kids ran around scaring each other and playing games. She, specifically, had always enjoyed the mild pranks and ghost stories. Calla lived for the spooks.

But Bethany was right to be worried at this point. This was the first time in three years that the world was celebrating this mysterious, spooky holiday, and peace was still being established. Several members of the fallen Saints of Savannah were still running around and causing mayhem for everyone. If there was ever night that they'd have it easier to hunt for new sacrifices, it would be tonight. Calla needed to keep that in mind, especially since Bethany's boss's daughter, Zoey, was going to be with them. She didn't want to find out what would happen if any harm came to the little girl.

"Ok, just to be sure, and I promise that this will be the last time," Bethany started, "you have your phones, right?"

"I do," Calla told her while Garret nodded.

"And you have the mace?"

"Yup."

"Good. Zoey will be here any moment, now," Bethany told them.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Bethany went to answer it. On the other side stood Zoey, holding onto Amaranth Claudius's hand. The siblings had never seen the Champion in person before but they both knew that she was close with Zoey's mother.

"Hey! Come on in!: Bethany stepped aside for them. "You look so pretty, Zoey!"

Zoey was wearing a lilac dress and had a flower crown on. She had just a little bit of eyeshadow and shimmery lip gloss on. She wore white sandals to finish the look. Her sky blue eyes were shining brighter than the stars themselves and an excited smile held a residence on her little face.

"Thank you," Zoey giggled.

"Good evening, Beth," Amaranth greeted before turning her attention to the siblings with a warm smile. "Calla and Garret; it's nice to finally meet you two in person."

"It's nice to meet you too, Miss Amaranth," Garret breathed, looking a little star struck.

"It truly is," Calla agreed, discreetly elbowing her brother in the ribs to pull him out of his stupor. "And thank you so much for everything you've done against the Saints of Savannah."

"It's no problem," assured Amaranth.

"Calla! Calla!" Zoey bounced over to hug her and Calla giggled as she hugged the little girl.

"Hey, Zoey! You look gorgeous," Calla complimented.

"Thank you. So do you!"

Calla was dressed in a red dress with a white waist apron, red and white striped tights, and black mary-janes. She'd simply put her honey-colored hair in twin braids to fall over her shoulders. She had considered adding gore to her outfit until they offered to take Zoey out with them. She liked Zoey, so she was willing to give up the gore to make it a fun night for the younger girl.

After releasing her, Zoey hugged Garret, who didn't really feel like dressing up but used temporary color in his hair to turn it silver.

"I like your hair," Zoey told him.

"Thanks. I like your flower crown," he replied with a grin.

"Miss Amaranth made it for me!"

"I didn't know you knew how to weave crowns," Bethany commented.

"It was a childhood hobby," Amaranth explained and looked to the kids. "Are you three ready to go?"

Calla looked to her brother and their young friend, both of whom were nodding. "Yes, we are."

"Then be safe and have fun."

"Remember to check in every once in a while," added Bethany. "Give one of us a call if you need anything."

"We will," Calla promised.

"Have fun, guys." Bethany smiled and waved

An hour later, the trio were walking down a semi-lit street, giggling at the group of kids they'd watched on Faster Avenue that had outwitted some older bullies. Calla paused when she noticed how dark this section of the street was, and her laughter died out. She had a bad feeling about this area rather suddenly. Her heartrate sped up a little and she caught Garret's shoulder.

"Hey guys, do you feel uneasy about this place?" wondered Calla, searching the darkness ahead for movement.

Garret and Zoey stopped and looked forward toward the darkness. Zoey took hold of Calla's hand and held on tightly.

"Mommy says that I should avoid that area," whimpered Zoey. "She says that there's a lot of bad people up that way."

"We should probably avoid that area if that's what Miss Iris said," Garret concluded quietly.

"Agreed," Calla said, turning to lead them away.

They froze when a bright light turned on like a spot light shining on them. Calla pulled Zoey closer, putting herself between the vague, menacing silhouettes that were appearing in the flood light and the small child.

"Lookie here, boys! Fresh meat!"

The trio were backing away and Calla's mind was racing. "Garret, it's time to run."

"Right. Let's go!"

Calla turned with her brother, sweeping Zoey up to carry her, and they sprinted as fast as their legs would allow them. With her free hand, Calla dug her phone out of her bra and dialed Bethany's number.

"Hey, what's up?" Bethany greeted.

"Beth! We're being chased!"

"Where are you right now?" she wanted to know.

"We're running down Gallister, heading toward Faster," explained Calla.

"Ok, there's an alleyway two blocks past Faster. Try to get there and hide. I've already notified some agents close by to help you, and I'm on my way," Bethany instructed. "Stay on the line, ok? I'll do what I can to help until help arrives."

Calla agreed as they crossed Faster Avenue and she kept an eye out for the alley that Bethany had mentioned.

"In here," she gasped to Garret when she spotted the opening between a music store and a floral shop.

They ducked into the alleyway and looked for somewhere to hide. The best one was a space between a dumpster and the wall of the music store.

"Ok, we're hiding," Calla whispered softly while she tried to catch her breath.

"Now be very quiet. Help is almost there," Bethany told her. "Can you see your pursuers from you position?"

Calla shifted so she could peek around the corner of the dumpster and immediately spotted three horrific shadows against the opposite wall. "Yes. There's at least three."

"What are they doing?"

A loud metallic bang filled the alley, the sound vibrating the metal walls of the bin that they were hiding behind. Zoey let out a soft, terrified whimper. Garret gently shushed her, taking her from Calla and hugging her tightly against while Calla continued to watch the shadows of their pursuers disappear in favor of seeing them. Her heart hammered with fear when she saw the three disfigured men with long, gnarled fingers and deathly grey skin. She squashed her own feelings down so that she could stay calm for her two companions.

"Come on, now, children!" called the tallest man. "It'll be so much easier for you if you just come out, now."

"We should just fire a couple of rounds. It should scare them enough to flush them out," the skinniest told him.

"Beth, their talking about shooting," Calla whispered urgently.

"Just sit tight," Bethany murmured to her. "Just ten more seconds."

Calla counted down from ten and right on cue, a threatening crack resounded in the alley and it was illuminated by an unnatural power. A familiar voice rang out. "Drop your weapons."

"Or what?" the shortest challenged.

Abruptly, Iris Bordia appeared between the men and the trio's hiding place. An inhuman power arched across the bare skin of her arms like lightning and her eyes were glowing silver.

"You really don't want to find out after threatening my family and breaching our treaty," Iris answered icily.

Calla didn't think it was possible for the three men to get anymore pale, but they proved her wrong by doing so after seeing the woman.

"Shit, it's the cultist! Let's go!"

The men dropped their weapons and fled like frightened animals with tails between their legs. Once they were gone, it was like Iris powered down, the magic disappearing from the surface of her skin and the glow fading from her pale eyes as she turned to their hiding spot. The illumination in the alley dimmed to near nonexistent. 

"You can come out, now," she offered. "You're safe. They won't be coming back."

Calla crawled out shakily and helped her two companions out.

"Mommy!" Zoey immediately sought out her mother's comfort.

Iris hugged her tightly and rubbed her back gently when the child burst into tears. "Shh. It's ok, Firefly. Just let it all out." She looked at Calla and Garret with concern while she looked them over. "Are you two ok? Nobody got hurt, right?"

"No, were not hurt," assured Calla while she struggled to continue keeping her calm. "Just shaken."

"I imagine," Iris murmured and reached over to set a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Deep breaths, ok?"

Calla nodded and took a deep breath while bringing her phone back to her ear. "Beth?"

"I'm here," she promised.

"Miss Iris found us," Calla told her.

"I know. I'll be joining you soon, ok?"

"Ok."

They disconnected and all the terror of the situation finally caught up with her. Tears gathered in her eyes and she was finding it harder to control the shaking in her frame. She looked up at Iris, realizing how much danger they had been in. She worried that they wouldn't be able to see Zoey again because of this. Her faltering adrenaline left her feeling overwhelmed and anxious. She did her best to lock it down.

"I'm really, really sorry that Zoey got put in danger."

Iris looked miffed by her apology. "Don't apologize, Calla. You guys didn't do anything wrong. I'm just glad that you're all alive and safe."

"Agreed." Bethany was jogging into the alley. As soon as she reached them, she embraced the siblings. 

Calla hugged her back and she lost her battle against her feelings. The floodgates burst open and she buried her face into Bethany's shoulder when she started crying.

"Hey, it's ok," the red-head murmured, working circles into Calla's shoulder blade with her thumb.

"I know, I just…" Calla couldn't even fathom what she was trying express at that point.

"I know. You're scared and you need time to process." Bethany kissed her temple in that sisterly way that she does. "Let's go home, alright? I'll make hot chocolate and we can watch movies. Sound good?"

"Yeah. That sounds good."


	9. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to my great grandmother, Betty E. Cassidy.

She had always filled the young woman's life with light and warmth. They didn't always get along or agree, but there was an unbreakable loyalty and undeniable love. The same could be said of all the bonds that the elderly woman had. She was a beacon of hope, safety, and kindness. So when she inevitably passed away, there were a lot of heartbroken people left behind, the young woman included. In the elder's honor, the young woman and her family took a small urn that held some of her remains to a small park against the river that the elder had loved so much and held a small memorial service for her. As they stood together, they talked about their memories of the woman.

"She was incredible cook," one the young woman's cousins said and a small laugh escaped him. "But she always managed to burn the carrots, no matter how hard she tried not to."

"No matter who you brought home, she was always grandma," the young woman added with a small, fond smile. 

"My favorite memory of her is how excited she would get when we got excited about putting up and decorating the Christmas tree," her other cousin. "And she would sit there and watch us while singing Christmas carols with us.

"My favorite memory of her is every morning I'd come out to make breakfast and she'd shuffle over and lean in to see what I was doing. I'd ask her what she's doing and she'd ask what I'm doing and I'd tell her that I'm making food. She always smiled and said 'I'm just watching,'" the young woman's uncle told them.

"My favorite memory is when I was younger, she would take me to get a soda on bad days," the young woman's grandmother recalled and her face scrunched as tears filled her eyes. The young woman rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "She really was a wonderful mother."

"I loved hearing all the stories she had to tell and hearing about all the knitting projects that she was working on," her aunt added.

"She gifted me nutcrackers every year for Christmas for as long as I can remember." The first cousin smiled and nudged his younger brother and poked the young woman's side. "And she always gave him a musical snow globe and her something ballerina related."

The young woman's heart seized a little at that and short, breathless chuckle escaped her. "Yeah. She really knew what we loved."

"What about you?" her uncle asked. "What's your favorite memory?"

The young woman thought about it for a little while. "I don't really have a favorite memory. I love them all. Even if I didn't always show it, I cherished every conversation, card, gift, and moment I had with her. Every trip to the store was an adventure, every night was filled with advice, every mistake was met with acceptance, and she always encouraged me to pursue my dreams and happiness." Tears overflowed to leave tracks down her cheeks. "It's hard to choose a favorite memory out of 28 years of being around her. But my favorite thing that she would make is Welsh cookies. Also, her killer French silk pie. But there isn't a single memory in my mind that I hold above the others in sentiment."

"We did have a pretty amazing grandmother, didn't we?" her aunt wondered, wrapping a comforting around the young woman's shoulders. "We were extremely blessed to have her."

The young woman nodded. "She always did so much for all of us. We owed her so much. I wish we could've given her the world."

She was met with agreement from her family members. There was a beat of silence immediately following the conversation before everyone mumbled some form of goodbye to the woman that had done her best to be everyone's rock and guide.

"Bye, Grandma. I love you, and I'm gonna miss you."


	10. Half Sisters

Eliana stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of fresh air for the first time in two days. The sound of laughter met her sensitive, pointed ears and she walked to the rail to peer down into the palace garden. There she spied her daughter, Tira, playing with her half-sister and rightful heir to the throne, Meridia. The older girl was running through the paths with the younger girl on her back. Both were giggling and Eliana couldn't help but admire the joy on their young faces and revel in the sounds of their amusement. They both deserved this happiness after the things their father had put them through.

I expected it to take them longer to bond. Meridia had only returned a few months prior and capsized Jaxon Caskmoon's corrupted system. Doing so had come with saving the Prince of Redwood and having to best her father on the battlefield. She'd hardly had time to breathe, much less spend time with anyone. It was nice to see her sneaking away from the Council for a break before her coronation the next day.

Eliana let out a soft laugh. She shouldn't encourage this behavior from the soon-to-be queen, but she couldn't help letting it slide this time while she watched the half-sisters running around with so much life and mirth.

"Let's play hide-and-seek, Meri!" Tira told her.

"Ok! You go and hide," Meridia replied with a smile. "I'll count."

With a nod, Tira ran off and Meridia turned her back, facing the fountain with her eyes closed while she counted to ten. "Seven…eight…nine…ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

Eliana could see Tira hiding behind a tall, stone pillar that was wrapped in the vines of a climbing rose bush with bright, glowing white roses. The little girl was smiling and biting her lip to try and stay quiet so that Meridia wouldn't hear her. Meridia was moving through the paths slowly, meticulously checking every hiding spot she passed and smiled brightly when a joyful giggle managed to force its way out of Tira.

"Found you!" Meridia reached Tira's hiding place shortly after and surprised the child.

Tira let out a squeal and laughed when Meridia swept her up and spun her around a couple of times. Tira's feet touched silid ground a minute later and Meridia kneeled next to her. The younger girl threw her arms around the older girl's neck and had her hug reciprocated by the upcoming queen.

Eliana smiled softly at the wholesome, sisteryly moment and looked to the clear afternoon sky. "May Arienh keep you bond strong and Alastrine keep you both safe."


	11. Comfort

It was bad. Just the entire scene was bad. Iris hadn't been able to get it out of her head all week; how the killer had left the skinned bodies of three adults and four teenagers strung up in or around the house. Confirmed three missing children. There had been so much blood, Iris had actually walked back outside to wretch in a trashcan that one of the examiners provided her when he saw how pallid she was. 

Now, she was thankful to have the night off so she could see her own daughter, as well as her childhood bestie and her twin brother. She pulled up in front of their shared house on her motorcycle and just stopped for a moment, looking at it. 

This was home, now. This was where she was gonna find almost all of her family. All except her adoptive parents, who lived across the city. But that was OK, because she'd get to see her daughter here. That was a special kind of comfort in and of itself with this current case. Just being able to see her family alive and her daughter still there helped immensely. 

Then came the exhaustion. Iris had been working endlessly for weeks. The murders were only getting worse, and clues were few and far between. It seemed that they would get answers just to get a million more questions with it. Even the supernatural were stumped by the information that was collected. 

Sighing, Iris got off the bike and made her way to the front door, a little more sluggishly than she wanted but she was so tired. She felt bad that Zoey was going to see her like this, but it couldn't be helped. 

"Guys, I'm back," Iris called as she walked in, closing the door behind her. 

"Mama!"

Iris smiled in relief at the sound of her daughter's cheerful voice, moving to meet the little girl as she appeared at the end of the short hallway. She lifted the tiny brunette into her arms and kissed her cheek. 

"Hey, Firefly. How have you been?"

"Good! I got a gold star on my classwork today!"

"Yay!" Iris giggled softly as she walked into the living room. "I'm so proud of you!"

Cosira poked her head out of the kitchen and Ethan looked up from the couch, where he was sitting. Zoey hugged Iris's neck. 

"I missed you, mama. Will you be staying longer this time?"

"I missed you too, Zoey. I wish that I could stay longer, but I just have a day to rest up before I have to get back to it." Iris smiled a little and stroked her hair gently. "But I promise, as soon as we close this case, I'm gonna take a vacation and we'll go out to do something together. All of us, as a family. Does that sound good?"

Zoey nodded and Iris kissed her cheek again before setting her down. "Dinner must be almost ready. Why don't you go wash your hands?"

"OK!"

Zoey ran off to go to the bathroom to wash her hands. Cosira slipped out of the kitchen to hug Iris next. Iris hugged her back.

"I'm so glad that you're home. I was getting worried that you might have gotten hurt while you were out there," she told Iris and pulled back, hands resting on the blonde's shoulders. "We hadn't heard from you in a long time. I've been trying to stay positive for Zoey."

"I know. I'm sorry," Iris told her quickly and softly, hands on her waist. "Things have been really bad, recently. We're all just running ourselves ragged, now, trying to piece this puzzle together."

"You guys aren't even really close to catching this sicko, are you?" Ethan wanted to know. 

"No." Iris deflated. "A lot of people are getting frustrated."

"It's OK, Iris. I'm sure something groundbreaking will turn up soon, " soothed Cosira. "And when it does, it'll blow the case wide open. Then you'll be able to do your thing."

"I hope so. I'm not sure how much harder we can push before we have to call in more back up. "

"Why don't you call Amaranth?" Ethan suggested. "Maybe she and Aidan can find something or have a fresh outlook on it that will help."

"Maybe. I've been considering it these last couple of days." 

"It'll come to you. For now, why don't you just sit down and rest? As you said, dinner will be ready soon."

"OK, Cosira."

Cosira returned to the kitchen and Iris moved to the couch, where she sat next to Ethan, who put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side. He kissed her temple gently. 

"You look more exhausted than I've ever seen you before."

"It's been hellish these last couple of weeks. Little to no sleep, lots of difficult sights to churn the stomach." She let out a sigh and curled into his side a little more and buried her face in his shoulder. "It's just good to be home, away from all the gore. I can pretend that everything in the world is right if only for the night."

Ethan's hold on her tightened a little and his free hand came up to free her hair from its ponytail and comb his fingers through the rat's nest that she currently called a messy hairstyle, settling his cheek against her head. 

"It's ok, little sister. It's going to be ok," he told her softly, gently working the tangles out of her hair. 

Zoey came down the hall to join them on the couch, tugging at Iris's sleeve. "Mama, are you ok?"

Iris pulled back and Ethan's hand left her hair. She smiled gently at her daughter and pulled her onto her lap, hugging her tightly. 

"I'm ok, Firefly. Mama's just tired," Iris assured her and kissed her forehead. "It's been so long since I've been home, why don't you tell me about what you've been up to while we wait for dinner to finish being made?"

Zoey grinned and began to tell all about her schooling and her friends.

Later that night, Iris laid on her brother's bed, facing him with his arm wrapped firmly around her slim waist as they whispered softly to each other. Iris was cuddled against his chest with her head tucked under his chin while she listened to him speak.

"So, yeah…Chase has been busy with his college projects and I'm still just running the science shop," Ethan told her. "Now, why don't you tell me more about what's going on?"

"Ok…there's been a multitude of murders and kidnappings since we've been called on to help with this whole thing. The killer was, originally, just stabbing or shooting the victims and taking their kids, but has evolved their tactics to…everything. Skinning, gutting, dismemberment…anything your fucked up imagination can come up with, I think. Evidence is scarce and doesn't seem to be in any way consistent. Nothing is adding up. Even our supernatural allies are stumped on what's happening," Iris summed up. "And the scenes are…they're gruesome. Sickening."

"How so?"

"This last one…it was three adults and four teenagers. Skinned, gutted, and hung up on display in various points of the yard and house. It felt like the blood was everywhere, and the killer literally smeared viscera on the walls and ceiling. Someone's intestines were hung on the fan, jamming it so it wouldn't spin anymore. They'd been there for a couple of days, at least, and the smell…gods the smell was so bad. I actually walked back out of that house and lost my breakfast, E. I never throw up. Especially not for gore."

"Oh, Iris," sighed Ethan, his arm leaving her waist and hand coming up to push the hair from her face and run his hand over hair. "I'm sure that you have the skill to solve this. You may need help, and it's definitely going to get tough, but I know that you've got the skill to do this."

"I'm not worried about my skill. I'm worried that…I mean, I know that I'm just a human even with Mara and Zakrael, but I'm worried that we aren't enough to stop this. Even if we call…anybody for help." Iris pulled back a little and looked up at him. "I'm worried that something's going to happen. That someone working the case won't come back. That whatever's responsible for these deaths will come for one of our families next. I can't…lose you guys yet, and I know that many of my employees feel the same way about their loved ones."

"We both know that nothing worth having or doing comes without great risks. Father taught us that, and experience has driven that deeper," Ethan reminded her gently. "You can get through this. We'll find a way to stay safe. That's a promise."

"Ethan…"

"I mean it," he murmured and kissed her forehead. "It's going to be ok. I know that you'll figure this out. That's what we do, you and I."

"…you're right. That's exactly what we do."

Ethan smiled at her and leaned close to give her an eskimo kiss like he used to when they were kids, earning himself a lovely smile from her. 

"We should get some sleep, now. We both have to get up early," he told her.

"Yeah we do," she lamented and tucked her head under his chin once more. 

"Good night, little sister."

"Good night, big brother."


	12. Update

I know that I haven't posted in a little while and I just wanted to give you guys a little update about things. 

So firstly, I want to explain that my great-grandmother passed away at the beginning of last month. I was really close to her and she always encouraged me to keep going with my writing. Her missing presence has left my writing to suffer a bit. I haven't stopped trying to write and get things posted for you, but everything I've tried to write recently just hasn't been very good and you guys deserve my best. That said, I will continue to work on getting myself back to where I was so that I can bring my best to you. 

Secondly, while losing my great-grandmother was painful, some force in the universe decided that I deserved to be blessed with a wonderful, patient man. At the risk of sounding like a love-sick school girl, he has been a great distraction to me, but he is also becoming a beautiful inspiration to various aspects of my life, including my writing.

Finally, things have grown to be extremely tough in my household. We're going into what will be a rough holiday season without the woman that really made them feel special and our finances are low. So, at least for now, I need to put more focus into finding any kind of work to help make ends meet. 

I don't expect to be on a schedule for a while, but as often as I can get something up for you all, I will do so. In the mean time, I wish you all a happy holidays and a wonderful day.


	13. New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get this short story started, I would like to apologize again for my tardiness from writing. I wanted to put so much more out for you guys, but with a shifting of circumstances has also come some new obstacles to overcome. I will keep this update brief so that we can get on to the real reason this chapter exists. First of all, I finally managed to get a job! It isn't the best job I've held, and I definitely don't enjoy it as much as I have others in the past, but it's a job. Secondly, there have been a lot more problems in my household than there were before, namely being a lack of trust and loyalty between some of us that has prompted me to start looking adamantly for a car and apartment. I will do my best to get back on a schedule for you guys while tending to my daily duties and trying to solve these problems. Until then, I'd like to apologize again for this quiet period and thank you deeply for your patience. And now, without further ado, the story.

The Author sat quietly on her bed and allowed her thoughts to flow as she evaluated the year that had just ended and began to make plans for the year that just started. For the first time in months, she picked up a pencil and a small journal to begin her list of notes on what she wanted from this upcoming year.

_'New Year; New Start,'_ she wrote at the top of the page. _'1. Let go of past transgressions and walk into the year with a peaceful mind. 2. Be stronger. 3. Find balance. 4. Pace myself. 5. Be more positive. 6. Love harder. 7. Give the Physicist and my readers my best.'_

She set the pencil down next to the notebook and reread her small list. She thought further on what she wanted from the year. Her fingers drummed subconsciously against her thigh while her thoughts wandered back to the last two months of her life; standing in the emergency room and watching the moment that her great-grandmother's soul left her body, the comfort she found from talking to her cousins and her friends at the corner store, and the peace that she found when she walked to the park and climbed down the rocks to dip her feet into the cool water of the river.

_"Marry me."_ The words spoken to her by the Physicist when she placed a bag with his favorite whiskey on the table before him, earning a blush and flustered stammer from the Author. _"I may or may not be half joking about that."_

She smiled fondly at the memory that really started her down the path with him. She could remember him asking her out on a coffee date set for the next day--a walk that instead led to lunch, where they both admitted to being nervous. The second date yielded serious conversation between them. That was the night that they both agreed on the path that they wanted to take with each other, even knowing that there would be a couple of tough hurdles that they'd have to clear.

Nothing prepared her for the slew of problems that came at her one right after the other like cars racing along a speedway. It still irked her that her family decided to crack down so hard on her and make things so difficult. Their timing couldn't have been more convenient in her eyes. All of it came up when they learned that she was dating the Physicist...

_Let it go,_ she told herself firmly. _Think about your reasons for doing this. Your reasons for being happy._

With a deep breath, she continued to review the days. The Author remembered how nervous she felt, the first time that she reached out for his hand while they walked back to his house from the store. Her stomach had done acrobatic flips like the greatest gymnast the world had ever seen and it took her half the walk back to finally work up the courage to slip her palm against his and lace her fingers with his. She remembered how he flinched a little at the initial contact and she guessed she might have surprised him. Ultimately, he reciprocated and let her be. She had to laugh a little at how those early weeks had felt like testing limitations to her. Even a full month later, it still did at times.

The memory that she appreciated the most was when he reminded her that she'd never shown him any of her writing--a reminder that made her pause and look at him.

_"You want to see it?"_

She complied when he confirmed that he did and she pulled up the book of short stories that she'd posted online so that she could show him some of her work. She couldn't express how grateful she felt that he took an interest in it to begin with. She couldn't express her gratitude in full when he told her that the short she dedicated to her great-grandmother was beautiful. It had been forever since she felt any sense of pride or confidence in her work. It had been so refreshing to her and she remembered what it felt like to be a writer again, instead of just a corner store employee.

With an abrupt realization, the Author picked up her pencil once more to add one last goal to her list of new resolutions. _'Grow from the woman he's revived and embrace the new woman that is born from those changes.'_


End file.
